


Challenge accepted

by Builder



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Avocados at Law, Avocados in school, Drinking Games, Foggy Nelson Is a Good Bro, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Marijuana, Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson Friendship, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson at Columbia, Sickfic, college partying, great american challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 12:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16284341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: “Dude, he can’t eat another team’s pizza.  That’s a time penalty for sure.”“But it’s a slice-for-slice swap.  We took one of yours, you take one of ours.”“That’s fucking stupid.”“Hey, I’m on the cheese team and your fucking jalapenos are making my eyes hurt from across the room.  Whoever on your team gets the lone slice of cheese should be grateful for our mercy.”  Foggy brings reason back to the conversation, subtly reminding them that they’re all pre-law.“What mercy?  You pranked your own teammate.  I say time penalty.”The next person to speak does so in a stage-whisper.  “They don’t need a time penalty.  Murdock is a time penalty.”_____Also know as the one where Foggy and Matt take part in the Great American Challenge.





	Challenge accepted

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who are uninitiated, the Great American Challenge is a social event in which teams of individuals race to complete a series of tasks that generally include drinking a set amount of alcohol, eating pizza, smoking marijuana, and completing a jigsaw puzzle. The specifics of the Challenge vary from place to place with various institutions having their own in-house rules. It’s generally a pre- or post-final exams celebration done at colleges, but the Challenge is popular with an array of social groups.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @builder051

The beer goes down smooth enough.  The pizza does too, until someone thinks it’s funny to give the blind guy a slice of sausage jalapeno and tell him it’s cheese.  Matt smells the peppers before one burns into the roof of his mouth, but the zing still catches him off guard.  He would try to explain it, but he’s more than a little buzzed, and the cogs in his brain don’t whir into motion until after an argument’s broken out.

“Dude, he can’t eat another team’s pizza.  That’s a time penalty for sure.”

“But it’s a slice-for-slice swap.  We took one of yours, you take one of ours.”

“That’s fucking stupid.”  

“Hey, I’m on the cheese team and your fucking jalapenos are making my eyes hurt from across the room.  Whoever on your team gets the lone slice of cheese should be grateful for our mercy.”  Foggy brings reason back to the conversation, subtly reminding them that they’re all pre-law.

“What mercy?  You pranked your own teammate.  I say time penalty.”

The next person to speak does so in a stage-whisper.  “They don’t need a time penalty.  Murdock  _is_  a time penalty.”

“Oh, shut up.  You don’t know what he can do.” Foggy says.  The couch cushions groan as he stands up.  “You done, Matt?”  He grabs the paper plate off Matt’s knees.  “Can we move on?  Can we smoke?”

The other team still has a few slices of pizza left, but they all relocate outside and hang on the railings of the front steps of their dorm building.  It’s brazen to puff on joints in the campus police’s territory, but none of them want to venture too far from their beds and bathrooms.

Matt’s never smoked anything before, and he’s tempted to tamp out his rolled cigarette after the first lungful.  With capsaicin still sizzling on his tongue, the effect is something like breathing in a radiator.  He does his best to swallow the urge to cough, but it hits his stomach wrong, like busting the air pocket at the bottom of the blender.  Matt sinks down to sit on the steps.  He drops his head to his knees and holds the joint out as far away from him as he can.

“You ok?”  Even with his head down, Matt can still smell cannabis and marinara sauce on Foggy’s breath.  

“Hm.  Yeah.”  Matt tries sucking in air through his sleeve, but the essences of cheap detergent and sweaty dorm couch aren’t much better.  

“You feeling ok?  You gotta make it to the end.  You’re our secret weapon.”  Matt hears the subtle shift in Foggy’s voice around what he can only assume is a stoned grin.  

Six beers and three slices of pizza aren’t usually enough to put him over the edge, but those aren’t the only factors at play.  Finals may be over, but grades haven’t been posted.  Internship applications are still under review, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t awkward to play drinking games with his direct competitors.  The first couple beers had eased the tension, but once they hit the point where decorum went out the window, it had become clear what they all really thought of each other.  Or at least what they all thought of him.

“Why isn’t the puzzle next?”  Matt knows very well why, but he’d rather ask a question than lodge a complaint.

“Because,” Foggy says.  “It’s the rules.  You gotta get fucked up beforehand.”

“Hm.”  Matt sighs.

“Hey!” someone yells.  “You have to actually smoke it, not just let it burn out.”

“Yeah, Murdock.”  Foggy slaps Matt’s shoulder, popping into frat boy mode at the first nudge of peer pressure.  “You gotta smoke it.”

“Sure.  Fine.”  Matt brings the joint to his lips for a second.  He breathes out as soon as his lungs protest, but it still makes him feel like hacking and vomiting at the same time.  Then he tries again.  It isn’t mindless obedience that keeps him on the path to self-destruction.  He’s made his bed, and he’s going to lie in it, even if he knows there’s a hell of a hangover coming for him tomorrow.

“Atta boy.”  Foggy thumps him on the back.  As far as Matt knows, Foggy’s never smoked either.  They’ll probably laugh about it later, but he doesn’t appreciate his friend suddenly being so handsy.  

Matt’s stomach jolts again, and he holds his free hand up to his mouth.  

“What?” Foggy asks, though it’s more of a giggle than a question mark punctuating the word.

“Just…gimme a little space,” Matt mutters.  “I just…don’t feel real good.”

“We’re gonna get a time penalty if you barf,” Foggy complains.  He pauses for a second while Matt gulps.  “But if you get it out of your system, do you think you could do the puzzle fast enough to make up for it?”

Even high, Foggy makes a good lawyer.  Matt makes a mental note to tell him later, but who’s he kidding?  The thought’s not sticking around.  It’s probably stored right in the brain cells he’s killing with tonight’s activities.  

“I don’t know, Fog,” Matt says.  The opportunity to mystify his peers with his coordination skills had been part of the draw.  Foggy had convinced him for the rest.  He’ll never doubt Foggy’s loyalty, but Matt’s beginning to question both of their judgement.  Maybe their sanity.  

“Ok.  No biggie.”  Another pat on the back.  Followed by a squeeze on the shoulder.  “Just let loose, bro.  Whatever happens happens.”

Matt could laugh, but he’s sure it’ll make him gag.  Foggy’s stoned, alright.  But he’s not the one losing his sanity.  That part’s all Matt.


End file.
